


Worst Fears and Dreams Come True

by Trin303



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28697277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trin303/pseuds/Trin303
Summary: When Helen takes a bullet meant for him, John simultaneously endures his worst fear and his best dream.Based on the tumblr prompt person B takes a bullet meant for person A.
Relationships: Helen Wick/John Wick
Kudos: 26





	Worst Fears and Dreams Come True

She was always stunning, John thought, watching as Helen kicked off her shoes. But there was something damn special about the way she lit up with her feet in the sand and the sun shining on her face. She glowed.

And it didn’t hurt that her sundress was cut high on her thighs or that the sleeve that slipped alluringly off her shoulder. Her dark hair twisted in the wind as John watched her from the deck of the cottage.

It was surreal. She was surreal.

He didn’t date. He didn’t do relationships or have one night stands with strangers. And he didn’t have any real friends, let alone ones with benefits. And he had never intended on it.

But Helen Kingston had captivated him from the moment he laid eyes on her. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. John knew plenty of beautiful women. No, Helen Kingston was so much more than beautiful. It was her kindness that had piqued his interest and her genuine heart that had fucked with his head over and over.

He didn’t deserve her.

But there she was: dipping her toes into the water while he watched, sipping at his morning coffee.

It had only been two months but those two months had more meaning than the rest of his miserable life combined.

She turns back to look at the house, pushing her hair back over her shoulder.

Helen smiles up at John and crooks her finger.

How can he resist?

John sets down the coffee and walks down the steps to the beach. It was official. He was going to buy the damn cottage. It wasn’t for sale but that didn’t matter. He would call the man who was renting it and make an offer. It wouldn’t be turned down.

Anything to keep that smile on her face. She looked so relaxed, far away from work, far away from the city. She would never quit her job. She did too much good but he wouldn’t stop reminding her that the world was hers.

He crosses the beach down to the water in suit pants and a crisp white button down. He only had suits and clothes for working out. Helen teased him about it sometimes but, truthfully, John had never had the need for something casual before. He had never really been shopping outside of a tailor. Helen would love it, though. Taking him to the mall, finding sweaters and casual shirts for him to relax in. That was enough to make John almost want to interact with people.

“Hey you.” She says as he approaches, a small smile on her face.

John says nothing, stalking toward her in a way that had her licking her lips.

He reaches for her face and kisses her softly yet soundly. The waves crash on the shore, the wind stirring up the sand and their hair but nothing is as loud as his own heart beating.

Helen nips at his lower lip as he pulls away. "I love you."

"I love you too." John says, still in awe that the words flow so easily off his tongue. There is no one like her. "Here is the plan."

"What's the plan?" She rests her head on his chest, staring out at the sea. The sailboats on the horizon cut easily through the waters.

"You're going to quit your job."

"Am I?"

"You are." He can feel her smile. "I'm going to leave mine and you and I are going to run away."

She hums, "where to?"

"Somewhere warm. Thailand. Belize. Somewhere with white sand, clear blue waters. We'll burn all your clothes and you can live in a bikini."

Helen snorts, "oh no."

"Oh yes." John presses a kiss to the top of her head, "We'll get a quiet, private residence and no one will find us. We'll spend every day on the beach. We'll read and relax and make love."

"Just us."

"Just us. Forever."

Helen looks up, "That sounds wonderful."

It really did, John thought. But near impossible.

Helen stepped back and out of his arms, hand gliding down so that she can link their fingers together. "In the meantime, we have right now."

"That we do." John agrees, stepping with her as she starts to traverse across the beach. 

She is so serene. The calm in his storm.

Helen Kingston- she is good and kind and pure and makes him want to be a better person. It's too late for redemption and he knows that, but she has accepted him with all his flaws. Her hand was intertwined with his despite knowing what he did with those hands when she was away. She slept in his arms every night. The monster wasn't under her bed… he was in it.

"You know I would never quit my job." Helen says conversationally. 

"I know." It was part of what he loved about her- the dedication to the kids she worked with.

"Days like today make me want to."

John stops, spinning her in front of him so he can hold both her hands, facing her.

"Move in with me." Its neither an order nor a question. He's not sure what it is but it feels like a plea.

She smiles softly, "it's been two months, John. What happens when you get tired of me?"

"Never going to happen. If anything, this is insurance that you won't leave me."

She reaches up and runs a hand down his beard. "Why are you so sure I'm going to leave you?"

John feels unnaturally heavy. His stomach and heart sink because, damn him, he is not enough.

"Because you're smart. You're going to figure out that I'm no good. That you can do better."

"I don't want good. And I don't want better, John. I just want you."

Her eyes narrow suddenly, her lips parting and she starts to shout, “John, get--!”

Suddenly she is launched forward, crashing into him. Behind her, far from the shore, is a boat. A sniper rifle peaks out from the side and John throws both himself and Helen to the ground, rolling on top of her to cover her body with his.

Her eyes are wide, breathing frantic. A quick look down reveals his worst fear. Dark red blooms from her abdomen, staining her dress.

"Hey, hey," John places his hands on either side of her face as another shot fires just over their heads, "stay with me, baby!"

He is unarmed, save a small knife. They are sitting ducks in the sand and he can feel her blood soak through his shirt.

He takes her hands and places them over the wound, "keep pressure, okay? I'm going to get you out of here."

She nods shakily, her eyes so trusting even as her face contorts in pain. His arms wrap around her and he moves to his feet, swinging her up while still shielding her with his body.

The adrenaline is pumping through his system. He'd been in a thousand fights before but nothing had ever filled him with terror as moving across the beach, trying to run off center but still as quickly as possible to the cover of the brush. 

He hears a motor and it sounds like the boat is driving away but he can't look. He can't risk slowing yet.

He jumps down into the brush, laying Helen behind a log within the reeds. 

Looking up, the boat has disappeared. But that didn't guarantee they were alone.

The shot went through her abdomen. He rips his shirt off, not giving a damn about the buttons that fly in every direction as he rolls it and pushes it against her wound.

Her head lolls back. "Come on, Helen. Stay with me!" 

John reaches into his pocket for his phone. He's never called 911 before. He's never needed to but he can't wait for the doc to drive from New York. 

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Woman shot. It went through her abdomen. It was some kind of rifle, a few hundred feet out." He rattles off the address.

"J-John?" Helen's face is layered with sweat.

"I'm here, baby." 

"Is the shooter still out there?" The operator asks. 

"No. They rode off."

"The ambulance is on its way and police have been dispatched."

He does wait for her to finish, hanging up the call and dropping the phone to the ground.

"I'm cold." Helen whispers.

"I know, baby, I know. Help is coming."

"Always hurt this bad?" She says through grit teeth. "How do you do it?"

"Oh you know…" John keeps the pressure on the wound, trying not to let the fear in his heart reach his face. "Practice, practice, practice."

She tries to smile but the pain is overwhelming. Her eyes start to close.

"No, no, no. Helen!" He says her name sharply and her eyes open. "I need you to stay with me."

"Want to sleep." It's almost a sob and John fights the urge to match her.

"I know. But you gotta stay awake, baby. Gotta stay with me until help gets here."

Where were the damn sirens?

"Trying…" He sees her hands shaking on either side of her. The color has drained of her face and he doesn't know what to do.

"Tell me something."

"What?"

"Anything." She needs to stay conscious. "Tell me anything. Something you've never told me."

Helen nods and exhales shakily, "Okay. I fucking hate your convertible."

John blinks in surprise. Of all the things she could say… say wasn't exactly news but she had never admitted to it aloud. 

"It's not safe. It's too flashy."

"What else?" He asks, a smile on his face.

" Its grossly cramped and there's no back seat to fuck in."

"Make you a deal. I'll get a new car if you let me buy you one too."

"John," she whimpers but keeps a brave face despite the pain, "I was just shot. This is coercion."

"That Chevrolet is going to fall apart on you."

"Be nice. Chevy is the great American car."

Her eyes start to flicker and John pats her cheek, "stay with me, Hel. I’ll buy you whatever shitty car you want.”

Her eyes close and John slaps her just a bit harder, heart clenching as he did. 

"Bitch." She mutters, eyes opening as she trembled.

He could hear the sirens now. They were getting louder by the instant 

"Come on, tell me something else."

"What you want to know?"

"Something new. Something I wouldn't guess this time."

She nods, "if I live,"

"You will." 

She had to. There was no other alternative.

"I'm going to marry the fuck out of you, John Wick."

The last thing she saw, as the world went dark, was John's face agape in shock.

.

Helen had been rushed from the ambulance into surgery and John's only assurance had come from a paramedic promising him that the doctors would do all that they could. His hands shake. John couldn't remember a time in his life where his hands had shaken. 

His stomach turns and it takes all his self-control not to lose the contents of his stomach in the nearby trash can.

He takes his cell out from his pocket. It is stained with her blood. Trying to ignore the way it feels under his fingertips, he dials a familiar pattern.

The ringing stops as the receiver is picked up. Before they can speak, John says, "Helen was shot."

Silence.

"Is she alive?" Marcus asks finally.

"In surgery."

More silence.

Marcus had told him, had warned him. John hadn't listened. 

"Where was she shot?"

"Abdomen." He leans back in the chair, "it was meant for me."

"Well, I doubt anyone would go to shoot Helen for the fun of it."

John ignores the stinging remark. “I’m at the hospital now. Can you find out if anyone has a hit on me? I need to know where it’s coming from and I need to know who has been hired.”

“It isn’t open. I would have heard if it was. But I’ll head to the Continental. See if I can find out anything.” There is a moment of silence, “Aside from me, does anyone know about Helen? Winston? The Concierge or the Executor?”

“The Executor but he hasn’t met her.”

"Of course. You know, depending on who they sent, its very possible that half of the underworld knows about Helen by now."

Fuck, he wanted to vomit.

He had tried so hard to protect her. To keep her secret from his world. Marcus was right. He should have known better. 

"Please, just do what you can."

"Just focus on her. I’ll take care of everything on this end.”

And Marcus is gone, the line dropped. 

John sits down in a chair and watches the clock tick on and on.

.

She'll live, the doctor tells him and John breaths again. His heart stutters in relief as he receives the rundown of her procedure. 

He barely listens, "I need to see her."

"Of course. She is, still, unconscious but I can take you back."

John nods and follows back to the recovery room. She is still pale but her vitals look good. He caresses her face lightly, her earlier words still echoing in his head. 

His beautiful, crazy girl was lying in a hospital bed because his enemies found them.

He hadn’t protected her and she had taken a bullet meant for him.

Gladly, John would have taken it if it meant she did not lay in front of him.

John reaches for her hand. It is limp but warm and he holds it between his. Marcus had been right. There was no way to pull Helen into their world and still keep her safe. But he could not let her go, even if he wanted to. 

.

Helen startles awake and blinks in the sharp white light of the hospital room. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” John’s voice soothes, hand tightening in her own while his other reaches up and rests on her forehead. “You’re okay.”

She blinks again, “Hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

John lets himself laugh, softly. His heart still heavy with the thought he came so close to losing her. But she was there. In front of him. Alive.

Helen looks him over. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m supposed to be asking that question.”

Helen stays quiet, looking at him seriously.

“I’ve never been so afraid in my life.” He confesses, his hand sweeping back into her hair. “God, Helen…”

“I’m okay.” She whispers, squeezing his hand in hers. “I’m here.”

John releases the support on the bed and moves to sit on the edge, beside her. “Why didn’t you duck? Why didn’t you move when you saw the target?”

“It would have hit you.”

“One more wouldn’t have killed me.”

“It might’ve.”

“It might’ve killed you!” Did she not understand? He couldn’t yell at her, not while she was in a hospital bed but she had to understand. “My life doesn’t matter. I will gladly take a thousand bullets if it keeps you safe.”

“Your life matters to me, John.”

She had said ‘I love you’ fairly early on. He believed her every time she said it. He knew she cared, he knew he mattered but there was no one else who cared for him or about him as she did. All his faults lay at her feet and rather than step on him, she had knelt down and held him.

Nothing scared him more.

Except perhaps the words she had said in what very well could have been her last sentiment.

“It’s not worth yours.” He says finally, “If something happened to you, what would I be? You blow into my life and I don’t recognize the man I was two months ago. I don’t want to think about how empty I was before I found you. Before you, I was just a shell. What would you expect me to become if you died?”

Helen reaches up, her eyes so soft and open and so not like anything he was used to. She runs her hair up his beard and around back to his hair. “I would expect you to be the man I fell in love with.” She pulls his head and John obliges, bending forward to kiss her softly. Her lips are chapped from the anesthesia but neither care.

Only hours ago, he didn’t know if he would ever be able to kiss her again.

“I love you.” She says quietly, whispering against his lips. There’s a pause as Helen pulls back, just far enough to look at him. “And I meant what I said on the beach.”

John swallows, not meeting her eyes. “I can get a new car.”

“After that.”

He feels his lips twitch up softly, “The part about me being a bitch?”

“After that.” Helen smiles at him, “Although I won’t dispute that you’re a bitch sometimes.” She wraps her arm around his neck, wincing slightly at the way her body stretches, “When I get out of here, I am going to marry you, John Wick.”

John feels his hands shake. He’s not sure they’ve done that before. “Aren’t I supposed to ask you that? 

“Our relationship is built off of me telling you what to do.” Helen flashes him a smile, “Besides, you were taking too long.”

“I have it on good authority you aren’t supposed to propose marriage after two months.”

“Nor are you supposed to propose moving in together but you did that this morning.”

“You still have an out, moving in with me. Once we’re married, you’re stuck with me forever.” And damn him, he’s considering it. She’s already dragged into his world. The wound in her stomach is proof enough of that but to put his ring on her finger, to put his name at the end of hers? “I won’t let you go.”

“I think I’ve established that I’m serious about you,” Helen tells him, eyes flicking down to her abdomen. “I have no intention of going anywhere. Aside from the courthouse.”

“You have to move in with me.” John feels a smile creep onto his face as he strokes her face.

“A given.”

“And I’m buying you a new car.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “Fine.”

“And a beach house.” It might be his best and only opportunity to negotiate. 

“Now you’re pushing it.”

John surges forward and kisses her again. She’s here, in his arms. And she is going to be okay. Marcus had told him he was going to take care of it and John was going to let him. He had more important things to attend to, starting with his fiancée. 


End file.
